"Noli me tangere.
Noli me legere.
Noli me videre.
Noli me--"

Do not touch me.
Do not read me.
Do not see me.
Do not me--

Move away. Don't drift, run. I am so close to destruction. I am not who I was. I am not the one you love. But I love you so much. I love your skin and your eyes and your lips and your hair. And I hate myself for all the things you don't know I've done to you. I lie to you about how I feel. I want to die most days. I don't know why most of the time. I cower in my suicidal corner and hope that I'm making the better choice of staying here just to love you. It is the love you give me that keeps me from finishing something that was never really started; my life.
I fear the future if you aren't in it.
And I am telling you the truth about my desire for death so that you can do the thing that I don't believe anyone else can.

Save me.

I Am

I am beautiful and I am whole. I am all the pieces that make me, and then some. I am strength and joy and hope. I am the past, the present and the future. I am my past, present and future. I rely on me. I love others, but I love myself the most. I am open and I am closed. I am yours, but I am always my own. I belong to me. I rarely cry. I care too hard and too much. I get lonely easily. I want to help everyone. I doubt myself at least once a week. I am unsure and scared. But I am myself, and I love myself, and I will move and adapt. I will be better. I will continue loving myself unconditionally.

You're all over me. I want it. I feel your tongue. I'm there, you're there and I'm calling out to you, and I'm falling. Then I'm awake, chest heaving, eyes wider than my legs just were in that dream. I need a shower. I stand under the spray for what seems like hours. Then I throw on an old paint splattered sundress and some flip flops. I make myself a cup of tea and an english muffin. I eat, slowly, staring at the canvas that is whispering to me. I paint until it's dark and I don't realize. I look out the window at the cars going by to wherever happy people go on Friday nights. When you were here it didn't matter the day, the time, anything. All that mattered was that we had each other. You let me paint until you couldn't stand it anymore, and started to kiss my neck softly, pulling me away with no hands. You explored my body at night. Some days you worked for hours and left me to my pieces, the big pieces. That's when you left for lies and deception. That's when you were someone else I never knew existed. That's the point when the memories become distorted, and when the dream I keep having becomes a haunting reverie of beauty and pain and so many other things. Sometimes I miss you so badly it hurts my heart to the point of shortness of breath. I ache. I hate you now because even though you aren't here, you are everywhere.

He sees me in all my glory, sticky with saltwater and humiliation.
I don't speak. I shiver and back away.
"Lena, please wait. Please speak to me."
I am doing everything in my power to leave his eyes in the dark. Because if they stay in the dark like all of his secrets, then I'll be able to leave him once more. I'll be able to walk away again. I'm still shivering, still backing away into more and more darkness. It almost feels better than the water does on my skin. It envelops me, swallowing away the fear.
And I dive, swimming to shore with all my might. I grab my things and I get back to my place as quickly as I can. I lock the door and I leave all the lights off, keeping myself in the soft darkness, slipping around the slivers of moon on my floor and walls. I run a bath, peel all the wet, briny lace off of my skin, and sink into the warmth. I soak for an hour or so, dry myself and don't bother with clothes. I get in between the cotton sheets and fall asleep as the dark wraps honest arms around me, and allow myself the the most peaceful night of sleep I've had in weeks.